


Aiden's Song

by krysnel_nicavis



Series: Captains of Quidditch [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Childbirth, Drama, Family, Friendship, M/M, Mpreg, Pregnant Oliver Wood, Rivalry, Romance, Slash, Wordcount: 10.000-15.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-09-01
Updated: 2005-09-01
Packaged: 2017-10-22 02:39:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 12,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/232825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/krysnel_nicavis/pseuds/krysnel_nicavis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes it takes a little something extra for people to admit the truth...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Percy's Letter

Percy Weasley walked down Diagon Alley.  The mid-November snow was falling heavily on the ground giving the shops an even more enchanted look.  Being late in the evening, the blue hue that surrounded the place enhanced the slight chill in the air.  He always enjoyed walking down this street after long hours at the office before heading home.  It was nice, and usually very quiet, calming him after a stressing day at the ministry.  As he walked at a leisurely pace, he noticed a lone figure slowly moving towards him.  As the person came closer Percy began to recognize the scruffy blondish-brown hair and muscular shoulders.

He spoke when the younger man was less than ten feet away. “Oliver?” Oliver Wood looked up and grinned as he stopped walking.

“Hey, Percy,” he greeted cheerily.  Percy also stopped walking.  The two hadn't exactly been the best of friends in school but they had been pretty close.  They had talked often enough when they both had free time – which was a rarity.

“How are you?” Percy asked.

“I've been doing alright. You?” Percy noticed that there was something different about the way his ex-roommate held himself, like he was slightly hunched over.

“Oh, as good as can be expected. The stress of a Ministry job can tend to get at a person.” Oliver nodded his head in understanding.

“Yeah, I'd heard you got a job at the Ministry.”

“I'm an assistant in the Department of International Magical Co-operation,” Percy said as he drew himself up proudly.

“Congratulations,” Oliver said, his smile broadening.

“Thank you. I heard somewhere that you were signed by one of the National Quidditch League teams.”

“Puddlemere United, the reserve team. I won't be training until next season but I'm ensured the position,” Oliver explained.

“Well that's good. May I ask why you are not training this season?”

“Personal reasons,” Oliver replied thanking the cold air that Percy couldn't tell if he was blushing slightly or not.  He suddenly couldn't look the former Head Boy in the eye.

"Oh. Well, I best be getting home. Mum will begin to worry if I'm late for supper."

"It was good seeing you again. Say hello to everyone for me."

"Will do. See you sometime soon, I hope." They said their goodbyes and continued on their separate ways. Oliver put a hand on his now rather round belly. The child he carried kicked merrily as he entered his apartment on Diagon Alley. He shrugged off his cloak and hung it on the rack by the door before removing his shoes. He made his way into his bedroom to change into some more comfortable clothes before finding something to eat. As he lay in bed he absently rubbed his stomach, feeling the child turn. A sad smile came to his lips and he drifted into a cozy sleep under the warm blanket, the snow falling calmly outside his window.

When Percy arrived home, he kept in mind to write his brother Ron and Ron's friend Harry Potter about seeing the former Gryffindor Quidditch Captain. Sitting down to eat with his parents, he chatted with his father about work. He couldn't shake the feeling that there was something very different about Oliver. As he lay down to sleep that night he decided that it was nothing. The snow outside fell gently, covering everything in a thick white blanket.

 **—|—|—|—|—|—**

"I still can't figure out how my name got put in the goblet," Harry said as he, Ron and Hermione Granger ate breakfast.

"I think your time would be better spent trying to figure out what you're going to do for the first task," Hermione said.

"Give him a break, Hermione. He's trying as hard as he can!" Ron retorted. As he said this, the Post owls arrived. To his surprise, Hermes (Percy's owl) stopped in front of him. He removed the note from the owl's leg and the owl took off immediately. "I wonder what Percy wants. He doesn't usually send me letters." He opened the letter and Harry and Hermione read the note over his shoulders.

>   
>  _Hello Ron,_
> 
>  _I suppose my letter has come as a shock, since I rarely write. I just thought I'd tell you that I met Oliver Wood yesterday walking in Diagon Alley. Did you know he was signed onto the Puddlemere United reserve team? But he says that he won't begin training until next season due to 'personal reasons'. I know it was probably nothing, but he seemed to be holding himself rather oddly, slightly hunched over. I'm sure it was nothing. Anyway, he says 'hello' to everyone, good luck with the rest of the year, and tell Harry good luck with the tournament._
> 
>  _Your brother,  
>  Percy_

  
"He was holding himself oddly?" Hermione said aloud. "I wonder why."

"It was probably nothing, like he said," Harry said, becoming rather interested in his plate of ham and eggs.

"What's probably nothing?" Fred Weasley asked as he, his twin George, and their friend Lee Jordan sat across the table from Ron, Harry and Hermione. Ron handed them Percy's letter.

"I wonder what was wrong with him," George said when he finished reading it.

"It couldn't have been a Quidditch accident if he's not training much this season," Lee offered. Harry kept quiet as they continued to idly contemplate the possible reasons for Oliver's 'odd stance'.

\- 30 -


	2. Breaking the Silence

Oliver walked silently down the empty street. It was late, and Diagon Alley was quiet, like it always was at this time. He remembered the slight shock he'd received when Percy had showed up during his evening stroll. It had been nice to see a familiar face for a change. True, he and Percy hadn't been the closest of friends back in school, and their talks soon became few and far between, but the sight of his former roommate had lifted his spirits.

He entered his apartment, hung his cloak and removed his shoes. When he came out from his bedroom, fully dressed in his pyjamas, he noticed a snowy owl landing on the outer windowsill. He opened the window to allow Hedwig to enter, and shutting it again before removing the letter from her leg.

>   
>  _Oliver,_
> 
>  _It's Harry. I haven't heard form you lately. How are you? I hope everything is going alright._

  
Oliver grinned, a hand coming to rest on his stomach. Harry had become slightly more concerned for him since he'd found out about Puddlemere.

>   
>  _Everything here is as good as it can be. It sucks that we don't have Quidditch this year. I really could use the distraction. But the tournament is going okay. First task's on November 22nd._

  
 _'Poor Harry,'_ Oliver thought. He knew what the younger boy was going through with no Quidditch to take his mind off things.

>   
>  _Percy wrote Ron today. He says he seen you. He mentioned that you were holding yourself oddly, now everyone here is trying to come up with reasons why. He also mentioned that you're taking this season off. The stuff the twins are coming up with is actually quite amusing, but I doubt some of them are possible, even in the wizarding world._

  
Oliver frowned slightly. Percy had noticed something different about him. He shouldn't have been surprised. Percy _had_ been the top student of their year, _and_ had obtained a Ministry job straight out of Hogwarts. It wasn't like he was _completely_ stupid.

>   
>  _I haven't told anyone about why you're taking the year off. I think Ron and Hermione are beginning to suspect that I know_ _something. They're catching on to my apparent lack of enthusiasm when it comes to wondering about you. They are going to find out I know something soon, and knowing them they'll stop at nothing to get it out of me._

  
Oliver sighed. Eventually people were going to find out. It was only a matter of time. And when Flint found out…

>   
>  _I'm not saying that you should take out a full page ad in the Prophet, but you need to tell_ **_someone._ ** _Have you even told you parents yet? I'm sure they'd be thrilled at the thought of a grandchild. I can't be the only one who knows… I'm sorry. I must come off as being self-centred. You know I'll keep this secret forever. To tell you the truth, I really don't mind being the only one who knows. I think what I'm trying to say is that people are going to find out about this and some people, like your family, are going to want to hear it from you personally._
> 
>  _Now, I want to hear from you a little more often. Keep me posted on some things. I am, after all, an extremely curious teenager, and not to mention your friend._
> 
>  _Sincerely,  
>  Your Quidditch buddy,  
> Harry_

  
Oliver sat staring at the letter for a few moments. Harry was right. He needed to let his parents know, and they needed to hear it straight from him. The only thing he was wrong about was how his parents would be thrilled. They wouldn't be. He got out a quill and some parchment and immediately wrote a reply to Harry. When he finished the letter, he tied it to Hedwig's leg and opened the window again.  He watched her fly out into the night, before moving to close the window. As he did, however, he spotted a lone figure down on the street. When the person passed by a light, he noticed the head of flaming red hair. When the man came level with his window, he called out.

"Percy!" The man looked around, finding no one, he looked up. He smiled and waved up at Oliver, who smiled and waved back. "Come up!" Oliver said, suddenly having the urge to talk to someone, and not to mention have company. He'd kept himself shut out from the lives of the people he cared about for so long. It was time he went back.

He sat on the sofa cross legged, holding a pillow in front of him. When Percy knocked on the door, he used his wand to open the lock. Percy entered, hanging his cloak up beside the door and removing his shoes.

"Hey, Oliver," Percy said as he entered the living room.

"Hey, Percy," Oliver motioned to the sofa and Percy sat down.

"So how have you been?" Percy was slightly concerned about the way Oliver didn't really move much.

"I've been good. A little lonely, and I really miss playing Quidditch." Percy tilted his head.

"You feel lonely? Why?"

"Well, I don't really spend time with people that often anymore." Oliver explained.

"Oh," Percy said understandingly. "Do you mind if I ask why you decided to take the year off from playing Quidditch if you miss if so much?"

"Well, you already did ask. But I don't mind answering." Oliver paused. It was now or never. "I really didn't have much of a choice. They wouldn't let me play in my condition, even though I'm sure I would have been fine, at least during the first few months." Percy was puzzled now.

"What do you mean by 'condition'? Are you sick?" Oliver chuckled.

"No, I'm not sick."

"Then what is it?" Percy asked with a worried tone in his voice. Oliver grinned.

"Don't worry, Perce. I'm perfectly fine." Oliver took a deep breath, readying himself for what he was about to say. "You remember back when Gryffindor won the Quidditch Cup?" Percy nodded. "Well, there's this charm that's been developed. It enables same sex couples to bear children." Percy looked confused at the sudden change of subject. "I volunteered to test it out. The one I had done on me enabled me to conceive a child, and it was conceived just after we won the Cup. So when Puddlemere United signed me on that summer, we made arrangements for me to join next year, due to the fact that a game of Quidditch could put the baby in harms way." Percy stayed silent while his brain processed the information.

 _'Oliver… baby… what’s going on here?'_ Percy thought in wonder at it all. "Huh?" was all he managed to say aloud.

"I uh, well…" Oliver took another breath and paused. "I'm pregnant." He finally said, looking down at the floor. Percy was amazed. Then he took on an expression of deep thought.

"So, um," Percy began. "That would mean that the child would be due some time during late January, early February?" Oliver looked stunned at the question, and bit amused. He'd expected a much different reaction, but felt he should have know Percy’s intellect would immediately kick in.

"Uh, yeah, that would be about right." Percy looked at him timidly.

"So uh, what does it feel like?" He asked meekly. Oliver grinned, still stunned at Percy’s easy acceptance of the information.

"It's unlike anything I've ever experienced in my entire life." He moved the pillow out of the way and put a hand to his stomach. "Come closer." He motioned for Percy to give him his hand. Percy did. Oliver pressed Percy's hand to a spot where the baby inside him was currently kicking at. Percy's eyes went wide and Oliver chuckled. A thought suddenly struck Percy.

"You have been living alone all this time?"

"Yes."

"Why don't you come with me back to the Burrow? Mum and dad would be glad to have you over." Oliver looked uncertain. "C'mon, we could Floo there." Oliver was about to say 'no' when Percy said "I'm not going to let you stay alone any longer. You need to be with _someone_ right now." After a while, Oliver reluctantly agreed and went to get dressed again, packing his pyjamas in a small backpack. Percy went first. When Oliver came to a stop, Percy caught him before he toppled to the floor.

\- 30 -


	3. Dinner with the Weasleys

"Hello, Oliver," Molly Weasley greeted. She and Arthur were seated at the kitchen table. Supper looked to have been just put out.

"Hello Mrs Weasley, Mr Weasley." Arthur nodded his greetings warmly.

"I really hope you don't mind, but Oliver has been alone for quite some time, which he apparently is in no condition to be doing." Percy looked pointedly at Oliver, who blushed in response.

"Oh, don't be silly. We're happy to have him," Molly said before turning to Oliver. “You’re always welcome in our home, you know dear.”

"Now young man, why have you been keeping so close to yourself for the last few months?” Arthur asked in a fatherly tone, “no one's seen you for a while now."

"Oh, I just didn't really feel comfortable telling anyone," Oliver answered as he sat down at the table before removing his cloak.

"Telling anyone about what, dear?" Molly asked kindly as she began filling the plate she'd set in front of him with mashed potatoes.

"Well, I guess the best way to describe it is being a test subject of sorts. Though really, it’s in no way bad or unwanted, in my opinion."

"What kind of test?" Arthur asked interestedly.

"Uh, well…" Oliver's cheeks turned slightly pink. "Male conception," he finished quietly.

"What?" Molly said, surprised. Arthur, though just as surprised as his wife, became more interested.

"Oh, I've heard of that. It's fairly new, but I had no idea that they'd perform it on someone as young as yourself." Oliver blushed a little more.

"And you've been alone all this time?" Molly asked incredulously. "Why didn't you tell someone?" She became concerned.

"Did you parents react that badly to it?" Arthur asked in a comforting tone. Their concerned reactions surprised him, but he felt rather uplifted by it.

"Well, no. They actually don't know yet." He fell silent for a moment. "Truth be told, I'm actually a little scared to tell them." They all looked to him sympathetically. Then Molly stood up and hugged him. He didn't know why, but his eyes began to water.

"You poor dear, well there will be no more of this living alone nonsense. You'll stay here with us," Molly said in an official tone.

"Oh, I couldn't, I-” he began, but Arthur cut him off.

"Nonsense, you really are in no position to be living alone, and we will brook no refusals. Starting tomorrow we'll make all the necessary arrangements for you to begin living here." Oliver was so overwhelmed by their kindness that tears fell from his eyes.

"Thank you."

"Are you alright?" Percy asked, concerned. He could only nod in response, and Molly chuckled.

"I'm sure it's just the pregnancy hormones," She said as she smoothed Oliver's hair. "Now, eat up." She sat back down again and then began to eat their dinner of mashed potatoes and gravied steak.

"Oliver, you never told me who the father was, er, well, the _other_ father," Percy said.

"You didn't ask," Oliver grinned. "He's actually the main reason I didn't tell anyone. He, er, left me before _I_ found out about it and I never told him." Molly looked towards him with a slightly concerned expression.

"So, are you going to tell us?" Oliver sighed sadly.

"I don't think I'm really ready to tell. Not yet."

"Fair enough," Percy responded, grinning. After a pause he added "Is it someone I know?"

"Percy!" Molly scolded, but both Percy and Oliver chuckled.

"Oh, I'm sure you've met him. But promise me you won't tell anyone," Oliver said. "I don't want him finding out just yet."

"I promise," Percy said.

Oliver lay down in Percy's room that night. The three Weasleys had insisted, since they'd felt the twins' room might not be safe for the baby and Molly had felt that Ginny and Ron's rooms were too far up the stairs. Percy had opted to sleep in Ron's room since he didn't trust the twins' room to be safe even for _him_ and he secretly felt silly and intrusive in his sister's room. Oliver lay on his side, a hand on his belly, and smiled slightly. He was happier than he'd been in a long time. Being here with the Weasleys made him feel like everything was going to be alright.

\- 30 -


	4. Charlie

The next day, Arthur arranged for all of Oliver's things to be transferred to the Burrow, letting Oliver's landlord know he was moving out. Not long after Oliver's arrival, Charlie came home as he needed to be closer to Hogwarts for the first task. He walked into the living room to find his mother sitting in a rocker with her knitting floating in front of her while she read a book; his father on the floor tinkering with a toaster; Percy pouring over various documents, parchment everywhere around him, and a quill in one hand; and Oliver was lying on his left side on the couch, half asleep.

"Hello, everyone," Charlie greeted cheerily.

"Hello, Charlie dear," Molly smiled as she put her book down and stood to hug her second son. (Her knitting floated to the side of the rocker, still stitching.)

"Hello, Charlie," Arthur said from the floor, the bottom of the toaster was off and he was inspecting the inside.

"Hey," Percy waved a hand full of paper by way of greeting without turning around. Oliver had opened his eyes and had his head propped up against his arm, but he stayed silent. Charlie suddenly noticed him. If he was in any way surprised by Oliver's appearance, he didn't show it.

"You must be Oliver," Charlie grinned. "In case you haven't already guessed, I'm Charlie." He went forward and shook Oliver's free hand.

"H-Hello," Oliver stifled a yawn.

"Oliver, dear, you should go up and get some rest before supper," Molly said, smiling at him. He smiled tiredly before pushing himself into a sitting position. He rubbed his eyes before attempting to stand. Before he knew it, Charlie was at his side, helping him to his feet.

"Thank you," he said when he was finally standing.

"No problem," Charlie grinned at him again.

"I'll send one of the boys to come and get you when supper is ready," Molly said as she sat back down in the rocker and reopened her book. Oliver nodded and yawned again. Charlie had decided to see him to where he still slept in Percy's room to ‘make sure he didn't fall or anything since he was so obviously tired’.

"So what exactly is going on here?" Charlie asked gently when he returned to the living room. His mother had only told him in her letter not to be surprised with Oliver and the 'condition' he was in.

"Apparently he volunteered to test a male conception charm and has been living alone since the end of summer," Percy explained from the desk while scrutinizing something he just wrote.

"Alone?" Charlie looked more and more concerned by the minute. "Why? Did his parents react that badly?"

"His parents don't know," Arthur said sadly.

"Apparently, no one knew," Molly added. "The poor thing, having to go through this all alone," She sighed. "Well, from now on that's going to change."

"Does anyone know who the father, or rather, the _other_ father is?" Charlie asked. Percy shook his head as he reread the report he'd just finished. "He won't say. All he's said is that he doesn't want him to find out."

A few hours later, Percy shook Oliver awake for dinner. Oliver was still yawning slightly when he sat between Percy and Charlie.

"How was your nap, dear?" Molly asked Oliver as she began to fill his plate with food.

"It was good, thank you." She smiled warmly at him as they began to eat.

"So, Charlie. What brings you back home?" She asked her son.

"Oh, I-er, came to watch the first task," which was half true. He smiled innocently at her.

"Well that's nice." She smiled back, missing the little white lie.

\- 30 -


	5. Fire in the Woods

When November 22nd came around and the first task had been finished, Molly Weasley had become outraged at the fact that they'd used dragons, of all things. "He could have been seriously injured!" she'd shrieked. But all Harry had received was a 'scratch on the arm', as Charlie had explained it.

"Hello, Oliver. Hello, Mum," Charlie said as he apparated into the kitchen the evening after the first task. Oliver and Molly were seated at the table, eating some fresh baked chocolate biscuits.

"Hello, Charlie dear." Molly greeted her son.

"Hey, Charlie," Oliver said.

"You look nervous," Charlie commented to the younger boy, taking a seat beside him. "Don't worry too much. No matter what happens, everything will work out alright." Today, Oliver would be telling his parents about the baby. Though his mother wouldn't be too pleased, he figured she wouldn't react too badly in front of the Weasleys. His father, on the other hand, he was what Oliver was worried about. His father was a severe homophobic. So severe that he'd turned his back on his own brother when said brother had been fatally wounded during the war, just because the man was _bisexual._ When Oliver had asked about his uncle, Mr Wood had all but hit him for daring to mention 'that abomination of god' in _his_ house.

"I want to believe you," Oliver smiled sadly. Charlie put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Don't you worry dear, Arthur and I will make sure that everything works out in the end" Molly said comfortingly.

"Of course we will," Arthur agreed. He and Percy had just apparated from another long day at the office. Oliver smiled at everyone.

"Thank you," he said quietly, tears springing to his eyes. He sniffed. "I- I don't know why I'm crying." Molly chuckled kindly and stood up to hug him.

"That would be the hormones, dear. It's nothing to fret about."

"Don't worry about it Oliver," Percy said, taking a biscuit and sitting on Oliver's other side.

"Yeah, it'll be fine," Charlie rubbed his back soothingly. Mr and Mrs Wood arrived at the Burrow half an hour later.

"Hello, you two must be Oliver's parents," Arthur greeted them and motioned for them to take seats at the table. Mrs Wood took the seat, but her husband stood behind her.

"Yes, we've been wondering what it was that was keeping our young Oliver away from home," Mrs Wood said briskly. Mr Wood looked at Oliver seated between Charlie and Percy disapprovingly. Oliver was leaning forward, his elbows propped up on the table, successfully hiding his stomach from view.

"Oliver, have we taught you nothing?!" Mr Wood demanded. "Get your ruddy arms off the table and sit up straight!" Oliver removed his arms from the table but stayed leaning forward, not meeting his father's eye.

"Well, are you going to tell us, Oliver?" Mrs Wood asked her son.

"I-" Oliver began, his voice cracking slightly. He looked up to his father's stern face.

"Well? What is it, boy?" His father snapped, looking reproachfully around the Weasley's kitchen. "And sit up, are you a Wood or not?" Both Charlie and Percy flinched at Mr Wood's sharp tone. Oliver didn't move. He stared at the table, trying to find his voice.

"Oliver, is everything alright?" Mrs Wood asked, not really sounding all that concerned. She sat rigid in her seat, obviously disliking everything around her.

"Oliver, are you okay dear?" Molly asked in a kind, motherly tone.

"I-" Oliver fidgeted under his fathers glare.

"We haven't all day, boy. And _sit up properly._ The sooner you tell us, the sooner we can leave. We're already late for the Flint's evening party because of you." That struck a chord inside Oliver's head. He didn't just sit up, he stood up, and his parents had their first full look at their son since the Quidditch World Cup.

"Oliver!" Mrs Wood shrieked.

"What is the meaning of—" Mr Wood began shouting, but was cut off by Oliver.

"Why don't you go ask dear ol' Flint's son! Oh, wait, he doesn't know yet! Maybe you can tell him for me!" Oliver tried to storm out of the kitchen. His father intercepted him in the doorway.

"What have you done?!" Mr Wood's eyes flashed murderously.

"Like I said, go ask Marcus!" Oliver tried to push past his father, but Mr Wood slapped him hard across the face, causing him to stumble. Before anyone realised what was going on, both Charlie and Percy had lunged out of their seats and tackled Mr Wood. Arthur jumped up and attempted to get his sons to calm down, and Molly went quickly to Oliver's side.

"Oliver, are you alright?" Molly asked, worried. Mrs Wood was still in her seat, looking on the verge of tears.

"I'm alright," Oliver said, sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall. He hugged his stomach and watched as his father struggle with the three Weasley men.

When Mr Wood had managed to finally get away from the three redheads, he turned to Oliver. "You, boy, never again are you welcome in my house! Do you hear me?! From this moment, you have ceased to be my son!" Mrs Wood stood and went to her husband. She turned to Oliver.

"Oliver, how could you?" Then she turned and walked out, closely followed by her husband. Oliver looked down at the floor, and wouldn't look at anybody, tears beginning to fall down his face. Everyone was silent for a while, and Molly kept rubbing Oliver's shoulders in comfort.

"So that's why you didn't want anyone finding out?" Percy asked as he took a seat on Oliver's other side. Oliver nodded sadly, leaning his head back against the wall, his eyes closed. Charlie sat on the floor in front of him.

"It's going to be alright, Oliver," He said. "Everything will be fine."

"Charlie's right, Oliver," Arthur said. "We said before that we'd make sure it would turn out okay, no matter what happened today." Oliver began to cry so hard his shoulders shook. Molly pulled him to her, cradling him.

"There, there. Just remember, we're here for you," she spoke softly.

"You know what I was thinking of doing?" Arthur said after a few moments. "I was thinking of turning the den into a bedroom for you." Oliver looked ready to protest, but Molly stopped him.

"I will not have you living on your own again." It was a long while before Oliver settled down again. Charlie and Percy had helped Oliver into the living room where he was now lying on the couch. Molly was knitting again, Arthur now studying a few plugs, and Charlie sat in a chair next to the couch reading some documents.

"So what's the deal with Marcus Flint?" Percy asked from the desk where he was again sifting through Ministry documents.

"We grew up together," Oliver began. "When we were really young, I guess you could say we were almost best friends." Oliver paused, thinking, remembering.

"Yeah, I could see good ol' Marcus as a child," Percy sneered slightly. "Torturing some poor innocent little chipmunk," he snorted.

"That poor chipmunk never saw it coming." Oliver laughed as Percy whipped around, a horrified look on his face. "I'm just joking. Crazy as it sounds, he wasn't like that as a child." Percy looked disbelievingly at him. "I'm serious. He didn't become the nasty little bugger you know him as now until he was about seven." Oliver sighed and Percy turned back to his papers not looking convinces. "It was his father's fault. He pushed him into a shell. Just like my father."

"But you're not the prat he is."

"People are different. We both used quidditch as our escape."

"How is it that he became a lowsy git, and you became a nice guy that everyone adores?" Charlie asked. Oliver blushed at the compliment.

"He was in Slytherin, I was in Gryffindor. His friends were just as lowsy as he became. Mine actually cared about me and not just my name."

"So how did you two, er, end up together?" Percy asked, the back of his neck turning pink.

"I don't really know. Our fathers are old friends. Every time one of the families in the 'in crowd' threw a party, we both had to attend. Those things aren't exactly the ideal place for a kid to be. Even though we weren't friends in school, we always hung out at the parties, but I'm really not sure when it began to become a part of our school life."

"Was he the only reason you'd sneak out after hours?" Percy asked after a pause.

"I- I guess so. Why?" Oliver's cheeks tinged pink.

"Then it started in our fourth year," Percy replied and looked back to see Oliver’s slightly shocked look. "Don't look so surprised. I was your roommate for seven years. I was bound to notice _something."_ Oliver chuckled.

"I guess you're right."

That night Oliver lay in bed thinking. The meeting with his parents went about as well as he'd thought it would. He was pretty sure that Marcus wouldn't find out about the baby from Mr Wood. Oliver's father wouldn't _dare_ admit anything like this. It could reflect badly on him as a parent. But he wasn't sure how he'd handle it when Marcus _did_ find out. He could have sworn he felt a dull ache in his heart when ever he thought of Marcus. _What if he hated the baby?_ Oliver felt he could handle that. _But what if he tried to take it away?_ His heart would surely break. But he was sure he had a while before he'd have to worry about that.

\- 30 -


	6. Kisses in the Moonlight

Charlie had stayed only a few more days after the encounter with the Woods, until it became absolutely necessary for him to return to Romania. The Weasleys were now in the process of turning the den into a suitable room. They wouldn't let Oliver help because they wanted it to be a surprise.

Oliver spent most of the time reading and thinking. He often sat at the desk in Percy's room, an empty parchment in front of him and a quill in his hand, trying to figure out whether or not he should try contact Marcus. Half the time he resorted to updating Harry on things. Nothing much changed at the Burrow, so there was never much to tell. He had let Harry tell Ron and Hermione about the baby, and was extremely grateful when they'd written him with their support.

"Oliver?" Percy knocked on the door one day at the end of November. He entered to find Oliver sitting in bed, reading. Oliver looked up.

"Yeah, Perce?"

"Could you come with me for a sec?" Oliver nodded, slightly confused as he stood to follow. Percy led him down the stairs where they met Molly and Arthur. Molly took Oliver's arm and lead him to where the den use to be.

"Close your eyes," She said as Arthur went to open the door. Oliver did and Molly led him into the room. "Okay, open them." Oliver opened his eyes and gasped. The room was beautiful. The walls had been done in a dark sky blue. On one side of the room stood his bed, much the same as the ones at Hogwarts, with a rich mahogany frame and deep blue curtains. His dresser was placed next to it. The room also contained Oliver's desk and bookshelf. On the other side of the room was an old cradle, a rocking chair next to it.

"We decided we wouldn't do it up too much until the baby arrived," Arthur explained. Oliver smiled, tears coming to his eyes.

"Thank you all. I love it." Molly hugged him tightly.

"Now, I'm going to go make supper," Molly announced. "We'll leave you to rest in your new room, Oliver dear." When the three Weasleys left, Oliver went to the desk. He sat down and pulled some parchment in front of him, loaded the quill with ink and paused to think about what he was going to write. He had planned on writing a letter to Harry, Ron and Hermione, telling them about the room, but he found himself writing aimlessly. When he'd finished, he wondered whether or not it was a good idea sending it. Before supper, he went to where his owl was perched beside Errol and gave her the letter, whispering to her where to take the letter.

—|—|—|—|—|—

He pulled his cloak closer to him. The late November chill bit at his uncovered skin, but he didn't care. He had to get out.

The parties that the "grown ups" threw had always been a bore – at least before they had been bearable, now he was alone. And the way Mr Wood had been glaring at him hadn't helped. The older man had taken to glaring at him a few weeks ago. ‘ _What the fuck did_ I _do?’_ he thought, walking along the path into the garden. Not that he'd ever admit it to anyone, but he enjoyed the way the snow made everything look, the way it glistened in the moonlight when he passed. He came to a stone bench that was positioned under the branches of a group of pine trees, looking out onto the now frozen lake. It was completely free of snow. He took a seat, remembering one summer's day before his fifth year at Hogwarts.

The bench was hidden from the view of the house, and there had been a party here at the Flints' estate. He had been fifteen. He'd never liked any of the parties that were thrown, for any reason. They seemed to be held almost everyday, especially now. They were all the same. Everyone who went was the same. But this particular party had held some significance for him. He'd always taken to sneaking away from the crowd. He remembered the first time Oliver had come to one. He'd been six, and Oliver five. They had been friends back then. He'd taken Oliver away form all the dull adult festivities and they'd explored the grounds. But it was that particular party when Oliver had been fourteen that he'd always remember…

They'd been sitting right here, under the pine trees. The lake had reflected the summer's stars, and the moon had been full.  The two of them were talking as they usually did. There had been no segregation like in school. They were who they were, nothing more and nothing less. He'd turned to look at Oliver, and his stone grey eyes came to rest on Oliver's honey-brown ones. At that moment, looking into the younger boy's unveiled soul, he knew he'd been lost. In that precious second, he knew he'd give anything to make Oliver happy. He'd given his heart. He was in love.

Even now, he couldn't recall how or why it had happened.  It just _did._  The only thing he knew clearly was that he'd leaned closer and lightly pressed his lips to Oliver's. It had been unsure and slightly rigid at first, as if neither were really sure what was going on. But that feeling passed quickly as they began to relax into it. It didn't go any farther than kissing. It didn't need to. It was perfect.

Their first kiss.

He came back to the present when something nipped sharply at his hand. He jumped, startled, and looked down to see Oliver's owl. Surprised, he took the note that was tied to her leg and unrolled it as the owl took to the sky.

>   
>  _Dear Marcus,_
> 
>  _It's been a while. I really don't know what I'm doing writing this. I'm not trying to prove anything. I'm not asking for anything. I just feel that I_ have _to write this. I need an outlet of some kind, and you're the only one I can write this to and not have to expect an overreaction in return._
> 
>  _Don't laugh. I'm surrounded by people, and yet I'm lonely. I know it must sound pathetic, but it's true. I haven't felt this lonely in a long time. Some people say 'there is no greater loneliness that in a crowded room', or something like that. I agree._
> 
>  _I had a run in with my folks a couple of weeks ago. They weren't pleased. My father's disowned me…_
> 
>  _You remember that time, during the summer about four years ago? I do. I don't really know why I thought of it. I see it as clearly now as if it just happened. I don't know how you feel about it, but that memory will always be as a ray of sunshine on my cloudy days. The moon was so bright that night. Everything was so perfect._ You _were perfect. That's probably not what you want to hear. I'm sorry if you'd rather I didn't mention it._
> 
>  _It feels like no one understands me. They all leave me alone to rest and think. They see me as fragile. I guess they're right. But I'm sick of it. I'm sick of being alone in a crowded house, I'm sick of being cold on a warm night… Sometimes, I'm just sick and tired of everything._
> 
>  _I'm sorry if I bothered you. I just feel like I needed someone to vent this all on. I'll leave you alone now._
> 
>  _To tell you the truth, I want to sign this with "love", but that would be pointless, right? Again, I'm sorry. And thank you._
> 
>  _Oliver_

  
Marcus looked at the letter. He knew, in part, how Oliver was feeling. All of his thoughts strayed here and there, never focusing on one thing for very long. Suddenly, without warning, he felt like he wanted to know where Oliver was right now, what he was doing, who he was with. Wishing the younger man was sitting beside him now, and that they'd never broken up.

But it was too late for that, wasn't it? He wished he knew.

\- 30 -


	7. Old Ties

As mid-December began to roll around, the Christmas spirit started to creep up over the inhabitants of the Burrow. Bill and Charlie had decided to come home for the holidays, so there was more going on. Since Percy had his room back, Bill took Ron's room and Charlie decided to brave to twins' room, having stayed in it back in August. But in August he hadn't exactly been alone, so _that_ extra safety precaution was gone.

Everyone needed to go to Diagon Alley to do some last minute shopping. Since the change of month, Oliver had spent a lot more time out of the house, but never alone. Today, he'd be shopping with Charlie.

"Where would you like to go first?" Charlie asked as they entered Diagon Alley and split into pairs — Molly went with Arthur, and Percy stuck with Bill.

"Oh, I was thinking Flourish and Blotts. I seen a book the other day that I thought Percy would like." Charlie nodded and they walked down the street until they came to the bookshop. They entered and Oliver began browsing.

"I'm going to check the books on the upper level," Charlie said before heading up the stairs. Oliver nodded and continued to look through the titles. _"The All-Purpose Potions Book"; "A Guide to Proper Murtlap Care"; "Basic Technology: A Brief Wizard's Guide to Understanding Muggles"._

"Oliver?" A familiar voice caught his attention. He froze. He didn't need to turn around to know who it was.

"Hello, Adrian." Adrian Pucey had been Marcus' best friend back at Hogwarts. Then Marcus got held back a year.

"I thought I'd recognised you," Adrian said matter-of-factly. "No one's seen hide or hair of you in months. Where you been?"

"Uh, on my own mostly," Oliver continued to search the books.

"You know, your father has been acting kind of strange lately," Adrian seemed to be trying to hint at something.

“How so?” Oliver was only mildly interested… _very_ mildly.

"When ever someone asks about you he gets all rigid and huffy then changes to subject. You two have a fight?"

"More or less," Oliver said in what he hoped was an off hand manner. He remembered clearly the look in his father's eye when the older man had hit him.

"What happened?" Oliver was starting to get annoyed with all the idle chit-chat nonsense. He turned to face Adrian before answering.

"It's none of your business," he said sharply. Adrian's eyes went wide.

"Hey man, either I'm seeing what I think I'm seeing, or you gained weight." Oliver blushed.

"Look, you can't tell Marcus. Actually you can't tell _anyone,_ okay?"

"Is _this_ why your father—"

"He hit me, alright. Then he disowned me and all but said I was a disgrace to the family name." Adrian let out a low whistle.

"So it was Marcus who did this to you, was it?"

"Yeah," Oliver sighed, giving in to the conversation.

"You didn't, by any chance, tell your father it was Marcus, did you?" Oliver frowned.

"Well, yeah I mentioned it. I kinda yelled it, come to think of it." Adrian looked thoughtful.

"That would explain it." Oliver looked confused.

"Explain what?"

"The last time I seen Marcus, he mentioned that your father had taken to glaring at him."

"Oh." Just then, Charlie came up to them.

"He, Ol'. You ready to go? Mum'll be wondering where we go to." Adrian looked from Oliver to Charlie, then back again.

"Yeah, just a second." Charlie nodded, eyeing Adrian suspiciously, and took the book he'd picked out to the cashier.

"A _Weasley?!"_

"What? There's nothing wrong with him." Oliver had missed the hinting question in Adrian's eyes. He turned and picked up the book he'd come in here for then went to where Charlie now stood waiting. He also missed the calculating expression, and the thought registering in Adrian' brain.

\- 30 -

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: my Adrian is older than JKR's


	8. Pucey's Mistake

"Who was that you were talking to?" Charlie asked when they left the shop.

"Oh, just an old friend," Oliver answered vaguely. They made their way to _Quality Quidditch Supplies_ next. There was really no reason to, but the two men enjoyed it. After visiting a few more shops, the two of them made their way to the Leaky Cauldron where they met up with the other four Weasleys. They decided to eat dinner in the restaurant before heading home with their purchases.

Oliver entered his room to find an owl sitting on his desk. It was Marcus' owl. He placed his shopping on the bed before retrieving the letter. When the letter was untied, the owl took off. When it had left the room, he shut to door and sat down at the desk before opening the letter.

>  _Oliver,_
> 
>  _Pucey just told me he seen you with Charlie Weasley. If you two are together, what the hell was that other letter for? "With Love" my ass. You could've at least found someone better than a_ Weasley, _for Christ's sake! And Pucey also mentioned that there was something I ought to know about you. He wouldn't tell me what, and I'm in no mood for mind games. So I'd rather you just came out and told me what the fuck is going on._
> 
>  _Your "ever loving" boyfriend,  
>  Marcus_

Oliver just stared at the letter. He'd had to read it a few times before something clicked. He'd suddenly remembered the way Pucey had said _'A Weasley'_ and put his head in his hands.

"I'm an idiot," he muttered to himself. He sighed and pulled out a fresh piece of parchment, a quill and some ink.

>  _Pucey doesn't know what he's talking about. There's nothing going on between Charlie and I. What I said in my other letter was all true. I have never had, nor ever will, have any interest — in_ that _respect — for any of the Weasleys, or anyone else besides you. They took me in when they found I was living alone in my condition and after the incident with my father. But my feelings where they're concerned are nothing more that of a family._
> 
>  _As for what you "ought to know" about me, well, it's really not something you talk about in a letter. I'd rather I told you in person, but what it is would probably make you hate me more. I'd like you to know, even if I'm scared of your reaction. I did it without telling you, and I'm sorry. I wanted it so much, and I only wish we had stayed together and that you knew and accepted what I did. I really want you to be here._
> 
>  _I wish I may, I wish I might, here's the wish I wish tonight…_
> 
>  _What a silly little nursery rhyme, eh? But some how, it fits. In more ways than you know. This may not mean much, after all this time, but I miss you… I love you._
> 
>  _Love your broken-hearted lover  
>  Oliver_

Oliver rolled up the letter and went to find his owl to take the note to Marcus.

—|—|—|—|—|—

Christmas was fast approaching, and the Burrow was full of joyous laughter. On the 21st, the five of the Weasleys and Oliver sat around the kitchen table eating chocolate biscuits and hot cocoa while swapping funny stories. This lasted well into the night, until they'd all began to yawn.

It was when everyone was in bed that a lone figure approached the house, hooded eyes surveying everything inside as it let itself in. The figure walked through the main floor of the house, overlooking the decorations that hung all over the walls. When the figure finally came to a stop at the end of a hall, in front of a closed door, it drew back its hood. Turning the door knob with a black gloved hand, the figure entered.

On one side of the room, there stood an empty cradle and a rocking chair. The figure paused and stared at these. After a moment, the figure made its way to the four-poster bed. Oliver lay asleep in the bed. He was turned towards the figure, a hand resting on his obviously pregnant stomach. The figure stood over him for a long while. Then the figure crouched down beside to bed and began reaching out with a gloved hand. When the figure was about to touch the sleeping man, Oliver opened his eyes, which went wide at the set of stony greys looking back at him. He went pale…

\- 30 -


	9. Second Chances

Oliver's face paled as he started into the stone grey eyes that haunted his dreams and every waking thought. But it was impossible. He couldn't be _here._

"Wh-What?" Oliver began, but the man in front of him put a gloved finger on his lips, silencing him.

"Why didn't you just tell me?" the Irish accent of Marcus Flint asked quietly. He removed his gloves and placed a hand on Oliver's stomach.

"I-" The colour slowly came back to Oliver's face. "I was scared." He looked down, unable to look Marcus in the face. Tears began to fall from his eyes. Marcus stood up and removed his cloak, hanging it on the back of the desk chair. He removed his shoes and sat on the bed beside Oliver, pulling the younger man into his arms.

"Shh, don't cry, love. It's okay." He rubbed Oliver's back in a soothing motion. Oliver cried into Marcus' chest.

"I-" Oliver choked out. His shoulders shook and his hands tightly clenched fistfuls of Marcus' sweater. "I was so scared." Oliver's voice was full of pain. "Don't hate me. _P-Please._ Don't h-hate me." Marcus hugged him tighter.

"I don't hate you," Marcus replied, his own voice cracking from the tears that were threatening to fall from his own face. "I never hated you."

"How is that possible?" Oliver asked in a shaky voice. Marcus pulled him into a sitting position. Oliver looked at him, confusion written over his features. "Marcus?" He didn't answer; he just looked at the floor, his head turned away from Oliver. "Marcus, answer me. Please, love," Oliver begged in a hushed voice. Marcus stayed silent. "At least look at me." Marcus lifted his head, his cheeks now tear stained. Oliver lifted his hand to wipe the tears away. "Marcus, love, what's wrong?" Marcus rested his forehead on Oliver's, closing his eyes.

"I'm _so_ sorry," Marcus said in a quiet voice. His bottom lip trembled. He wrapped his arms tightly around Oliver. "I'm such a daft prick."

"Marcus?"

"I shouldn't have left you." He rocked them back and forth. "I shouldn't have lied."

"Lied?"

"I said I didn't care about you. That I didn't care about _us."_ Marcus took in a shaky breath. "I lied. I _do_ care about you. I care about you more than I can bear." He stroked Oliver's cheek gently with the back of his hand, looking deep into the younger man's eyes. "I love you." Oliver gasped, fresh tears coming to his eyes. But these were not in sadness. With those three small words, he'd felt something unbelievably happy swell inside him.

"I love you, too," Oliver smiled as Marcus leaned forward and kissed him.

"I'm so, _so_ sorry I left," Marcus said again as the two lay back down.

"Why did you, anyway?" Oliver asked as he laid his head on Marcus' chest.

"Your future was more promising than mine," Marcus paused. "Being put in Gryffindor gave you a chance. Not many people from our kind of families get actual chances at life. Not with the stereotypes that come with our names and the Slytherin house. I didn't want to burden you with my ill lot."

"Oh, Marcus," Oliver nestled closer to his lover.

"Whoa," Marcus jumped slightly as the baby kicked at the spot where Oliver's stomach rested against his side. Oliver chuckled, and Marcus grinned as he put a hand on Oliver's belly. "So have you thought of any names yet?"

"None that I really liked." Marcus thought for a moment.

"How about Nova if it's a girl, Aiden if it's a boy?" Oliver considered them.

"I like that." Oliver linked his fingers with Marcus'. They fell asleep in each other's arms. Neither noticed the two people that had witnessed the whole conversation. Quietly, Bill closed the still open door to the room, making sure not to disturb the sleeping couple. He and Charlie grinned broadly as they made their way to the kitchen for a midnight snack.

"They do look like they're made for each other, don't they," Bill said when they sat down with some warmed up milk and chocolate chunk cookies.

"Yeah. I'm at least glad that Marcus seems to be completely accepting of the child," Charlie commented, taking a bite out of his cookie.

"I guess we'll have to wait and see if he actually decides to stay for good after baby arrives," Bill sighed, taking a gulp of milk.

"Somehow, I get the feeling we really have no need to worry."

\- 30 -


	10. It Happened So Fast

As there were no windows in the room, the sun that rose the next morning didn't wake the two forms on the mahogany four-poster bed. But the magical light did.

"Rise and shine you two. It's a beautiful day outside," Percy's voice chimed happily. Bill and Charlie had explained Marcus' unexpected appearance to the rest of the Weasleys. Percy had been a bit irked. Okay, well _a lot._ Molly and Arthur had been surprised, but were determined to give Marcus a chance to, as they put it, prove himself. Percy walked over to where the two previously sleeping forms were now staring bleary-eyed around the room. "Have a good sleep?" He asked cheekily, glaring at Marcus but trying to hide it.

"Hey, Perce," Oliver yawned. He nestled closer into Marcus' chest. Marcus, on the other hand, was glaring up at Percy.

"Why, good morning to you too, Flint, yes I had a lovely sleep last night, thank you for inquiring," Percy greeted sarcastically. Oliver snorted.

"I think you'd better go through, Perce. He is _not_ a morning person." Percy nodded, expressionless, and left quickly muttering _'surprising he's a person'_ under his breath. When Percy closed the door, Oliver looked up at Marcus. "Mornin' Love." Marcus yawned before grinning at him.

"Morning," he leaned down and kissed Oliver. "I'm going to definitely get use to this."

"Use to what?" Oliver tilted his head slightly.

"Waking up with you in my arms," he replied. Oliver smiled and kissed Marcus again.

"I thought you were referring to the 'Weasley Wake-up Call'," Oliver teased. Marcus rolled his eyes.

 _"That_ is something I'll never get use to." Oliver sniggered.

"I love you." Marcus smiled at Oliver.

"I love you too," he said, kissing Oliver a third time. "And I love hearing you say that."

"I know you do."

"And I love food," came Percy's voice from the door. They turned to see him standing in the now wide opened door. "Breakfast is ready and Mum wants you both to eat." Percy left the room again, closing the door.

"I am going to smack him pretty damn well soon if he keeps doing that," Marcus said, blinking at the door.

"After breakfast, I'm hungry," Oliver humoured.

"I'm not sure _I_ am exactly welcome at the breakfast table," Marcus pointed out as he helped Oliver to his feet. "Or rather, _any_ table."

"Oh, don't be silly. You know Percy. He just resents the fact that you were always injuring the Gryffindors during quidditch matches, would cheat just to get something, live to break rules, and the small fact that you were a bad ass Slytherin." Oliver wrapped his arms lovingly around Marcus' neck. "There's nothing to worry about. Besides, I'll be there to protect you." Marcus rolled his eyes then placed his hands on either side of Oliver's stomach.

"And how's babe this morning?"

"Kicking like crazy, looks like I'm not the only one who's hungry." Marcus kissed Oliver one more time before the younger man got dressed and he straightened out his clothes. They headed to the kitchen hand in hand.

"Good morning, Oliver," Molly said cheerily when they walked in. She looked Marcus over once then returned to cooking breakfast.

"Good morning," He returned.

"So, you must be Marcus," Arthur said by way of greeting as he looked up at them from his seat.

"Uh, yes sir. I am." They took seats across from Charlie and Bill. Oliver sat between Marcus and Percy — more to ensure that a fight didn't break out at the breakfast table than anything — while Marcus was near the end of the table, next to Arthur. Throughout most of breakfast, Marcus found himself subject to the interrogation usually reserved for the first time a boyfriend is brought home for dinner. The questions ranged from _'What were your grades in school'_ to _'What do you plan to do with your life, and will it efficiently support a family?'_ It became obvious to him how much the Weasleys considered Oliver as part of their family. For a few moments, he'd entertained himself with the idea of Oliver being the first blondish-brown haired Weasley. _Who'd've thought I, Marcus Flint, would marry into the Weasley family._ The thought struck him hard. _Where did_ that _come from?_ Everything was happening so suddenly. He and Oliver had just got back together, they were going to have a baby, and he was already thinking of marriage. A sharp intake of breath next to him broke through to his attention. "Oliver, what is it?" He asked worriedly. The Weasleys all turned their attention to Oliver. He was gripping the table with one white-knuckled hand and grasping his stomach with the other.

"I-I don't know," He let out a grunt in pain and leaned farther over the table. "Something's wrong." No sooner had the words left his lips, the whole kitchen broke out in a frenzy of movement and noise.

Fifteen minutes later, Oliver was sitting in a hospital bed in St. Mungo's maternity ward.

"Now, Oliver, I need you to stay as calm as you can. Sometimes babies are born premature. Just like some are born late," the Medi-witch said kindly.

"What is going on?" asked Marcus, his voice filled with anxious worry.

"Please, everyone try to remain calm. This is the most important thing for—"

"I am fucking calm!" Marcus yelled tensely, jumping to his feet. He looked close to hyperventilating.

"This is going to be difficult for you, Oliver. There's no denying it." The Medi-Witch ignored the now hysterical Marcus.

"What exactly is going on here?" Oliver asked as calmly as he could. Molly sat in a chair beside him, holding his hand with Arthur standing behind her.

"As you are male, the birth canal must be formed before the baby can be delivered. This is usually formed during the weeks before the baby is due. But the early contractions are forcing your body to have to form this quickly, in a matter of hours. If the birth canal had not begun to form when the complications arose, you would have been able to undergo a caesarean section. But as it has already begun progressing, the procedure could put either you or the child at risk, possibly even both." As she spoke, Marcus resumed his seat on Oliver's other side, taking his hand. He looked pale. "I'm afraid you're going to have to wait it out. I am also afraid that more complications could arise."

"Is there any possibility that anything could still happen to endanger the baby or Oliver?" Bill asked softly, voicing the question that was on everyone's minds. The Medi-witch turned to where he stood between his brothers.

"There is always that possibility, even with women. But right now, all we can do is wait it out and hope for the best." They all stayed silent. "I will be back a little later to check on you," she said to Oliver. "You just try to stay calm and as comfortable and rested as you can. You're going to need all your strength when the time comes." He nodded and she left the room.

\- 30 -


	11. Aiden

The Medi-Witch had come and gone many times during the day. It was now late in the morning on the 23rd of December. Oliver had been in the hospital for about twenty four hours, but the birth canal was still forming. The Medi-Witch explained that even after it formed it could be a long while before the baby would be born.

"How are you feeling?" Marcus asked gently. He and Oliver were alone, as the Weasleys went to the cafeteria to get something to eat.

"A little tired, and rather sore," Oliver answered. "You look like you could use some sleep." Marcus, indeed looked very much like he had not rested properly the entire time they'd been there. At least Oliver slept some of the time.

"I'm fine." No sooner had he said this, but a yawn escaped his mouth. Oliver chuckled.

"You know what 'fine' stands for, right?" Marcus grinned.

"Freaked out, Insecure, Neurotic and Emotional," they recited together.

"You should get some sleep, Marcus. The Weasleys are here to keep me company." Marcus looked ready to protest. "You don't need to leave the hospital, just get some rest." After five more minutes of persuasion and then ten more minutes of confirming that everything was going to be alright, Marcus went to the waiting room and Molly came in to keep him company.

"How are you feeling now, dear?" she asked warmly as she adjusted his pillow.

"I'm not sure if it's getting better or worse," he answered truthfully. "How was it with all your children?"

"Oh, I imagine it was quite similar to what you're going through," she replied. "Well, except for the fact that my body was already equipped with all that's necessary," she chuckled. He grinned, a hand massaging his side.

"It probably didn't take that long, did it?"

"Ginny didn't, but she was the last of the bunch. Bill and Charlie however, _they_ didn't seem to want to leave me. With both of them, I was in labour for a full two and a half days. I was surprised I hadn't broken a record," she explained. "Some labours are shorter, especially if it's the seventh child like Ginny, and some are even longer. Everyone's different." They continued to talk for a few more hours before the Medi-Witch came in to inspect Oliver.

"It looks like everything has formed nicely. Oliver, I do believe that the periodical pains you will now be feeling are contractions. They will become more frequent as the time for the actual birth draws nearer." He gave a wry smile as she left the room again. Molly laughed.

"Don't look so pleased," she teased.

It was late in the evening when Marcus had finally been allowed to return to Oliver's side. He'd been force-fed a sleeping potion that morning so he would at least stay still for a while. Oliver's contractions came more often now, and every time he had one, he wouldn't let Marcus talk or come near him until it had passed.

"Are you sure you're comfortable, love?" Marcus asked for the third time.

"Yes, Marcus. I'm as comfortable as I could be at this point," Oliver answered calmly.

"Do you need more ice—" Just then, Oliver breathed sharply and pushed Marcus' face away, causing the surprised Marcus to end up sprawled on the floor.

"Another contraction?" Percy asked slightly cheerily as he looked, bright-eyed, down at Marcus. All the Weasleys found the way Oliver disliked anyone near him during contractions rather entertaining, but none as much as Percy. Marcus just glared in response.

"That one wasn't so bad," Oliver said, letting out the breath he'd been holding. Marcus picked himself off the floor again as the Medi-Witch came in to check on Oliver again. She looked up at him.

"It's time," she said. All of the Weasley men stood, having decided to let Molly and Marcus stay with Oliver, and of course to give more room and air to everyone present. Marcus held Oliver's right hand, and Molly his left. "Alright, you're going to have to push during the contractions. Are you ready, Oliver?"

"Yes," he replied in a slightly nervous voice.

"It's alright dear," Molly reassured him.

"Alright, when I say, you give a big push," Oliver nodded. "Now, _push."_ He did so, while at the same time squeezing Marcus' hand as hard as he could. The Medi-Witch counted to ten and told him to stop. He breathed heavily.

"It's alright, love, you're doing great," Marcus said as it continued.

"HOW THE _HELL_ WOULD YOU KNOW?!" Oliver screamed in the middle of pushing. "YOU'RE NOT THE ONE HAVING TO DO THIS, YOU BLOODY PRAT!! YOU JUST GOT ME INTO THIS BLOODY MESS!!" Molly chuckled at the slightly hurt expression on Marcus' face.

"It's alright dear, they all say that," the Medi-Witch commented after giving Oliver time to rest before the next push.

"I'm sorry, Marcus love," Oliver said, panting. "I'm sorry, I love you, don't leave," he rambled, tears falling from his eyes.

"It's alright, love, I'm here, I'm not going anywhere." Then the Medi-Witch told Oliver to push again.

"You're doing great, Oliver. It's almost over," she said calmly. "Marcus, come look at this, you can see the baby's head." Marcus did.

"Oh my god, you can!" he said excitedly. Oliver gave a weak smile.

"Alright, Oliver, you're going to have to give me one more big push, okay?" Oliver nodded, but looked like he'd rather not. "Okay, ready? One, two, three, _push."_ He took a deep breath and pushed, but the Medi-Witch had only got half way through four and he stopped.

"I can't, I can't do this! I can’t be a parent! I’ll never be able to do it," he cried.

"Yes you can, love. I know you can, it’ll be fine," Marcus rubbed his back.

"No, I'm not strong enough," Oliver protested.

"Yes, you _are,"_ Marcus said forcefully. "You _are._ You're one of the strongest people I know. You can do this, and you _will._ And you won’t be alone in this we’re all here for you." Oliver breathed heavily a few times. “We’ll do this together, me and you.”

"Is it too late to reconsider?" Oliver asked, causing Marcus to laugh.

"Afraid so, love."

"Are you alright now, Oliver?" the Medi-Witch asked. Oliver looked into Marcus' eyes, drawing strength from the love he found there. He nodded.

"You ready?" Molly asked, giving his hand a light reassuring squeeze.

"Yes." His voice sounded more confident this time.

"Alright, on three," the Medi-Witch said, "one, two, _three."_ He pushed with all he could, then slumped back. The sounds of a baby’s cry meeting his ears. "It's a boy!" the Medi-Witch announced happily, holding the newly born infant in her hands.

"A boy," Marcus breathed, smiling widely. He turned to Oliver. "We have a son." Oliver chuckled, tears of happiness streaming down his face. The assistant that stood to one side performed a severing charm to cut the umbilical cord, then a cleansing charm on everything before taking the baby boy and wrapping it in a blue blanket. Then she handed the crying infant to Oliver. Marcus put his arms around his lover and child, kissing Oliver's temple. "I'm so proud of you," he whispered into Oliver's ear. Oliver smiled down at the baby, who had now stopped crying. It had a tuft of blondish-brown hair on its head. The child opened its eyes, looking up at his parents with stone grey eyes.

"Do you have a name for the little one yet?" Molly asked. Oliver looked up at her beaming face.

"Aiden," He replied simply. "Aiden Flint." he and the Medi-Witch smiled.

"Very well," the Medi-Witch said happily, filling out a parchment form on her clip board. "Aiden Flint, 6 pounds 4 ounces, born at 12:02am on the 24th of December."

"Christmas Eve," Marcus commented.

\- 30 -


	12. Getting Down to Business

"I'll be right back, love," Marcus said when they'd arrived back at the Burrow early that evening. Oliver was putting Aiden in his cradle.

"Where are you going?" Oliver asked, turning towards him after making sure Aiden was alright.

"I have some business to attend to," Marcus replied.

"Business?" Oliver raised an eyebrow at this.

"I'm going to pay a little visit to my parents. They should be hosting their annual Christmas party right about now. I can't wait to break it to them that their only child is homosexual." He grinned at the thought of his father's expression.

"You're telling them _now?"_ Oliver asked unbelievably.

"Well, yeah. They're bound to find out sooner or later." Marcus pulled Oliver close. "Or would you rather I put a front page announcement in the _Prophet_?" Oliver sighed.

"Tough call," he commented, causing Marcus to chuckle.

"I'll be right back, alright love?" He kissed Oliver's forehead. Oliver sighed, again.

"Alright," Oliver resigned. "But don't do anything rash. I want you back in one piece, not several." Marcus smiled and kissed Oliver on the lips.

"You have my word."

"Don't make me change my mind."

"What are you talking about?"

"Never take the word of a Slytherin."

"You just don't trust me."

"I trust everyone I just don't trust the little devils inside them." Marcus chuckled again.

"Alright, alright. You win. I won't do anything too rash."

 _"Too_ rash?"

"Okay, at all rash."

"Thank you." They kissed one more time before Marcus apparated to his family's estate.

—|—|—|—|—|—

"And where is young Marcus this evening?" inquired Lucius Malfoy, who was currently chatting with the Flints and Woods along with his wife, Narcissa. Mr and Mrs Wood tensed slightly at the mention of the Flint's son.

"I'm not really sure," replied Mr Flint, not sounding too concerned. "He always disappears during parties."

"I'm right here, Father," Marcus had just come down the stairs and entered the room. He walked casually to where the three couples had been chatting. He stood proud in his black dress robes, which gave him an aura of complete control and power – a true pure-blood.

"Ah, young Mr Flint, it is a rarity to see you present at parties such as this. It certainly is an honour," Mr Wood sneered, his tone clearly contradicting his words.

"Thank you, sir," Marcus replied through clenched teeth. After a pause, he boldly continued. "Mr Wood, have you heard from your son lately?" Mr Wood's eyes went cold as his wife's face went pale.

"Marcus," Mr Flint said in a warning tone. Everybody knew that the Woods had turned their son out, but no one knew why.

"I hear he's doing very well," Marcus continued as if his father hadn't said anything.

"You must be very brave to mention that sorry excuse for a son to me," Mr Wood said calmly, "or very foolish."

"What would I be if I mentioned the child?" Mr Wood looked ready to kill him. Mrs Wood looked ready to faint.

"Child?" asked Mr Flint as he looked between his son and his friend.

"Didn't he tell you?" Marcus asked, not taking his eyes off Mr Wood.

"Tell me about what?"

"The reason he disowned his son was because Oliver had conceived the child of another man," Marcus explained easily and loud enough for everybody in the room to hear. The room was instantly silenced.

"Why don't you tell your father who the other man was," Mr Wood said, his eyes blazing with hatred. Marcus looked to his father, his eyes twinkling.

"Why, that would be me." His mother fainted. His father was almost too shocked to catch her. Almost. No one was moving. They could hardly believe their ears. "I just thought I'd come and tell you that you have a grandson. He was born earlier today. Enjoy the rest of your evening." Marcus grinned at his parents and then at the Woods before apparating to the Burrow.

—|—|—|—|—|—

It was three months before Oliver was allowed to begin Quidditch training. He'd wanted to start earlier so he'd be completely fit for the next season, but Marcus had insisted that three months would make no difference since Oliver was still healing.

Marcus had received a Howler from his father on how "irresponsible" he was and that _"keeping secrets does more harm than good",_ and a few letters from his mother. Apparently they didn't support his relationship with Oliver, but his mother still cared for him enough to write.

One day in late March, Marcus was on the floor of the living room, playing with Aiden, while Molly sat in her rocker, reading a book while her knitting floated in front of her.

"You really care about them both, don't you?" Molly asked over her book. Marcus looked up at her.

"Yes. I do. They've become my life," he replied as he thought of Oliver and picked up his son. The emotion in his voice and the look in his eyes was enough for Molly to know that he was sincere. She returned to her book, happy to know she need not worry about Oliver's happiness.

When Oliver got home that night, Marcus proposed.

\- 30 -


	13. Epilogue

The ceremony had been beautiful. It had been held outside on a beautiful summer's day. Everyone sat in the reception hall awaiting the arrival of the wedding party and the newly married couple. Then the doors opened and the Master of Ceremonies came in.

"May I present to you, for the first time, Mr and Mrs Percival Weasley." All the guests clapped as Percy and his new wife Kali entered and walked up to the head table, followed by the bridal party.

At a table near the front, Oliver and Marcus Flint sat with their two year old son, Aiden, and the rest of the Weasley family.

Their ceremony had been similar, surrounded by the people they both now considered their family, making their relationship that much more official. Oliver had taken Marcus' last name because he'd felt it made their relationship that much more special. It may have also been for the fact that he no longer considered himself a Wood paired with the fact that he didn't agree with hyphenating the last names.

Oliver was now pregnant again with their second child. The charm he'd had placed on him over three years ago was apparently still in effect. The owner of Puddlemere United was more than willing to let him off on maternity leave, given Oliver returned only when he was fit to. Marcus, like Oliver, played professional quidditch for Puddlemere. Their coach jokingly threatens him now and again to trade him if he insisted on knocking up their keeper.

Bill and Charlie were both single and shared a flat in Romania, to save on rent they said. Since both their jobs were in the same area of Romania, everyone seen this as sensible.

For Fred and George, business was booming. Their mother still wasn't pleased with their choice in career, but was happy that they were doing so well.

Ron, Hermione and Harry were in their last year at Hogwarts. Ron and Harry looked to be in good positions to be signed as reserves for professional quidditch teams right out of school. Ron and Hermione officially became a couple after sixth year.

Ginny, who would graduate the year after Ron, has her mind set on becoming a healer. She and Harry formed a kind of bond over the years, and although they insist there is nothing between them other than friendship, everyone could see otherwise and expected them to finally admit it sometime in the near future.

Molly and Arthur surveyed their children and grandchildren happily. (Oliver and Marcus included.) There had been a rough patch where Percy was concerned, but it had smoothed out over time.  Percy sat at the head table with his one year old son in his lap.

While Oliver's parents made it quite clear he was out of their lives, Marcus' mother occasionally sent a letter.

All in all, no one could be happier

\- 30 -


End file.
